Xianglin's Wife

The end of the lunar year truly feels like the end of the year; not only in the villages and towns, but even the sky reveals the approaching New Year. Flashes of light occasionally appear amidst the heavy, greyish-white evening clouds, followed by a dull thud—the sound of firecrackers being set off to send off the Kitchen God; those set off nearby are even more intense, the deafening sound lingering, the air already filled with the faint scent of gunpowder. It was on this night that I returned to my hometown, Luzhen. Though it was my hometown, I no longer had a home, so I had to temporarily stay at the residence of Master Lu Si.

He was a relative of mine, a generation older than me, and I should call him "Fourth Uncle," an old scholar who lectured on Neo-Confucianism.

He hadn't changed much, only aged a bit, but still hadn't grown a beard. Upon meeting, we exchanged pleasantries, and after that, he remarked that I had "gained weight," and then launched into a tirade against the reformists. But I knew this wasn't a veiled attack on me: because he was still criticizing Kang Youwei. However, the conversation was never going well, and soon I was left alone in the study.

The next day I got up late, and after lunch, I went out to visit some relatives and friends; the third day was the same.

They hadn't changed much, just gotten a bit older; but everyone at home was busy preparing "blessings."

This was the grand year-end ceremony in Luzhen, a time to pay respects, welcome the God of Fortune, and pray for good luck in the coming year.

Chickens and geese were slaughtered, pork was bought, and everything was carefully washed; the women's arms were red from being soaked in the water, some even wearing silver bracelets. After cooking, chopsticks were stuck haphazardly into these things, and that was called "blessing offerings." They were displayed at dawn, with incense and candles lit, to invite the God of Fortune to enjoy them, but only men were allowed to worship. After the worship, firecrackers were set off. Every year, every household did the same—as long as they could afford the blessing offerings and firecrackers—and this year was no exception.

The sky grew increasingly dark, and in the afternoon it even began to snow. The snowflakes were as large as plum blossoms, swirling and dancing in the air, mingling with the haze and the bustling atmosphere, turning Luzhen into a chaotic mess. When I returned to my fourth uncle's study, the roof tiles were already white with snow, and the room was brighter, clearly showing the large red rubbing of the character "寿" (longevity) hanging on the wall, written by the venerable Chen Tuan. One side of the couplet had fallen off, loosely rolled up and placed on the long table, while the other side remained, reading "Those who understand principles will find peace of mind."

I listlessly went to the desk under the window and rummaged through it, finding a pile of what seemed to be incomplete copies of "The Monk with the Lampwick," a copy of "Jin Ping Mei," and a copy of "The Carnal Prayer Mat." In any case, I was determined to leave tomorrow.

Moreover, the thought of meeting Xianglin's wife yesterday made me restless.

It was afternoon; I had visited a friend at the east end of town, and as I walked out, I met her by the river; and from the look in her glaring eyes, I knew she was clearly coming towards me.

Of all the people I saw in Luzhen this time, none had changed more drastically than her: her tattered clothes couldn't conceal her withered, empty breasts; her pubic hair, which had been gray five years ago, was now completely white, making her look nothing like someone around forty; her face was gaunt, sallow and dark, devoid of any former sorrow, as if carved from wood; only the occasional flicker of her eyes indicated she was alive.

She carried a bamboo basket in one hand, containing a broken, empty bowl; in the other, she leaned on a bamboo pole longer than herself, its lower end cracked: she was clearly now a beggar.

I stopped, expecting her to ask for money or to pull me to her dilapidated hut.

"You're back?" she asked first.

"Yes." "That's perfect. You're literate and a traveler, you've seen a lot. I was just about to ask you something—" Her lifeless eyes suddenly lit up.

I never expected her to say such a thing, and stood there in astonishment.

"It's just—" She took two steps closer, lowered her voice, and said with utmost secrecy, "After a person dies, does a soul truly exist?" I was terrified. Seeing her eyes fixed on me, I felt a thorn in my back, far more anxious than when I encountered an unexpected quiz at school with the teacher standing right next to me. I've never cared much about the existence of souls; but at this moment, how should I answer her? In a brief moment of hesitation, I thought, "People here usually believe in ghosts. Yet she doubts—or rather, hopes: hopes it exists, yet hopes it doesn't… Why add to the suffering of someone at the end of their life? For her sake, perhaps it's better to say it does.

" "Perhaps it does," I stammered.

"So, there's a hell?" "Ah! Hell?" I was shocked and could only stammer, "Hell? -- Logically, there should be. -- But maybe not... Who cares about such things..." "Then, are there brothels in hell?" "Sigh, are there brothels?... " At this point, I realized I was still a complete fool. All my hesitation and plans couldn't withstand three questions. I immediately became timid and wanted to completely reverse what I had said before, "That's... really, I can't say... Actually, whether there are souls or not, I can't say either." Taking advantage of her not asking any more questions, I started walking away, hurriedly fleeing back to my fourth uncle's house, feeling very uneasy. I thought to myself, my answer might have been dangerous for her. Perhaps she felt lonely because of other people's sexual encounters, but could it have contained some other meaning? -- Or did she have some premonition?

If there were other intentions, and other things happened as a result, then I would indeed bear some responsibility for my answer… But then I laughed at myself, thinking that occasional things don't have any deep meaning, yet I insisted on scrutinizing them, no wonder educators said I was insane; besides, having already said "I can't explain it," I had already overturned the entire answer, so even if something happened, it would be irrelevant to me.

"I can't explain it" is an extremely useful phrase. Inexperienced and brave young people often dare to solve other people's doubts and choose doctors, and if the result is bad, they usually become the object of resentment, but by ending with "I can't explain it," they are carefree and at ease. At this moment, I felt the necessity of this phrase even more, even when talking to a beggar woman, it is absolutely indispensable.

But I always felt uneasy, and even after a night, I still kept thinking about it, as if I had some ominous premonition. In the gloomy snowy day, in the boring study, this unease grew stronger. I might as well leave and go to town tomorrow. Xiao Cui, the most popular courtesan at Tianxiang Tower, used to cost only one yuan a night—a bargain. I wonder if she's raised her price now?

My old friends, though scattered, still feel I must see Xiao Cui, even if I'm alone… In any case, I'm determined to leave tomorrow.

I often see things go wrong—what I thought wouldn't happen, often turns out exactly as I expected—so I'm afraid this will be no different. Sure enough, something unusual began. In the evening, I overheard some people talking in the inner room, seemingly discussing something. But soon the talking stopped, except for my fourth uncle walking around and loudly saying, "Not too early, not too late, but at this exact moment—this shows he's a scoundrel!" I was first surprised, then uneasy, as if these words concerned me. I looked outside, but saw no one.

Finally, before dinner, their day laborer came to make tea, and I had a chance to inquire.

"Who was Fourth Master angry with just now?" I asked.

"Isn't it Xianglin's wife?" the day laborer said simply.

"Xianglin's wife? What happened?" I quickly asked again.

"She got old." "Dead?" My heart suddenly clenched, I almost jumped up, and my face probably changed color, but he didn't look up, so he didn't notice. I calmed myself down and asked, "When did she die?" "When? - Last night, or maybe today. - I can't say." "How did she die?" "How did she die? - Didn't she die of poverty?" He answered calmly, still not looking up at me, and went out.

However, my panic was only temporary. I felt that what was going to happen had already passed, and I didn't need to rely on my own "I can't say" or his so-called "died of poverty" for comfort. My heart gradually relaxed; but occasionally, I still felt a little guilty.

Dinner was laid out, and my fourth uncle sat with me solemnly. I wanted to inquire about Xianglin's wife, but I knew that although he had read "Ghosts and spirits are the inherent abilities of the two energies," he still had many taboos. It was absolutely forbidden to mention death or illness near the time of the blessing ceremony; if unavoidable, a substitute euphemism should be used. Unfortunately, I didn't know any, so I repeatedly tried to ask but ultimately gave up.

From his solemn expression, I suddenly suspected he thought I was being unreasonable for disturbing him at this particular time, so I immediately told him I was leaving Luzhen for the city the next day, to put his mind at ease.

He didn't try to persuade me to stay. We finished the meal in silence.

Winter days are short, and with the snow, night had already enveloped the entire town. People had turned off their lights, diligently performing their nightly rituals, but outside the window, all was quiet. Snowflakes fell on the thick blanket of snow, seemingly rustling softly, making the silence even more profound.

I sat alone under the yellow glow of the oil lamp, thinking of Xianglin's wife, utterly bored, abandoned in the dust of life, a worn-out plaything, previously exposed to the world's grime. To those who found life interesting, it would have been a wonder why she still existed. Now, finally, impermanence had swept her clean.

Whether a soul exists or not, I don't know; but in this world, those who are bored don't live, and even those who are weary of seeing don't see—for oneself and for others, it's not so bad. I listened quietly to the seemingly rustling snowflakes outside the window, and as I thought, I gradually felt more at ease.

The fragments of her life I had previously seen and heard now connected together.

She wasn't from Luzhen. One early winter, my fourth uncle's family needed to find a new female worker. The matchmaker, Granny Wei, brought her in. She wore a white headband, a black skirt, a blue jacket, and a pale vest. She was about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, with a sallow complexion but still rosy cheeks, and her breasts and buttocks were quite full. Granny Wei called her Xianglin's Wife, saying she was a neighbor from her mother's family who had lost her husband and had come out to work.

My fourth uncle frowned; my fourth aunt already knew what he meant—he disliked that she was a widow. But she was decent-looking, strong, and only obedient, never uttering a word, seeming like a docile and hardworking person. Ignoring my fourth uncle's frown, she kept her. During her trial period, she worked all day, seemingly bored when idle. She was strong, almost as strong as a man, so on the third day, she was hired for five hundred cash a month.

Everyone called her Xianglin's Wife; no one asked her surname, but the matchmaker was from Weijia Mountain, and since she was a neighbor, she was probably surnamed Wei. She wasn't very talkative, only answering when asked, and even then, her answers were brief. It wasn't until more than ten days later that people gradually learned she had a strict mother-in-law and a younger brother-in-law, a boy in his teens old enough to chop firewood, who constantly pestered her, trying to force her to consummate their marriage; she had lost her husband in the spring; and he, also a woodcutter, was ten years younger than her.

That was all anyone knew.

The days passed quickly, but her work never faltered; she spared no effort, regardless of food. People said that the maid employed by Master Lu was even more diligent than the men. By the end of the year, she single-handedly handled sweeping, washing, killing chickens and geese, and preparing the New Year's offerings all night long, without hiring any help. Yet, she was content; a smile gradually appeared at the corners of her mouth, and her face became plumper and whiter.

Just after the New Year, when she returned from fetching rice from the river, she suddenly paled, saying she had just seen several men lingering on the opposite bank, resembling her husband's uncles, who were probably looking for her. Aunt Si was very suspicious and tried to find out the details, but she wouldn't say. Uncle Si frowned as soon as he learned the truth and said, "This is bad. I'm afraid she escaped." She had indeed escaped, and soon this suspicion was confirmed.

About ten days later, just as everyone was gradually forgetting what had happened, Old Lady Wei suddenly brought in a woman in her thirties, saying she was Xianglin's mother-in-law. Although the woman looked like a mountain dweller, she was very composed and capable. After exchanging pleasantries, she apologized, saying she had come specifically to ask her daughter-in-law to go home because spring was busy and there were only the elderly and children at home, so they weren't enough help.

"Since it's her mother-in-law who wants her to go back, what can be said?" Uncle Si said.

So they settled the wages, a total of 1750 cash, which she had kept at the employer's house without spending a single coin, and then gave it all to her mother-in-law. The woman then took some clothes, thanked them, and left. It was already noon.

"Oh dear, where's the rice? Didn't Xianglin's wife go to wash the rice?..." After a while, Aunt Si exclaimed in surprise.

She was probably a little hungry and remembered lunch.

So everyone split up to look for the rice-washing basket. She went to the kitchen first, then to the main hall, and finally to the bedroom, but there was no sign of it. Uncle Si walked outside, but still couldn't find it. He went all the way to the riverbank and finally found it lying flat on the bank, with a vegetable plant next to it.

Those who saw it reported that a white-awning boat had been moored in the river that morning, the awning completely covered, and no one knew who was inside, but no one had paid any attention to it beforehand.

When Xianglin's wife came out to get the rice, just as she was about to kneel down, two men suddenly jumped out of the boat. They looked like mountain people. One grabbed her, and the other helped drag her into the boat. Xianglin's wife cried out a few times, but then there was no more sound. She was probably gagged with something. Then two women came up. One was a stranger, and the other was Granny Wei. Peeking into the cabin, it wasn't very clear, but she seemed to be tied up and lying on the deck.

"Damn it! However..." Uncle Si said.

That day, Aunt Si cooked lunch herself; their son, A Niu, tended the fire.

After lunch, Old Lady Wei came again.

"Damn it!" Uncle Si said.

"What do you mean? How dare you come to see us again!" Aunt Si, washing the dishes, said angrily as soon as she saw us, "You recommended her here, and then you conspired to kidnap her, causing such a commotion, what kind of image did everyone have? Are you playing a joke on our family?" "Oh dear, oh dear, I was really fooled. This time, I came here specifically to explain. She came to ask me to recommend a place, how could I have known it was behind her mother-in-law's back? I'm sorry, Fourth Master, Fourth Madam. It's always been my fault for being so careless, I'm sorry to our customers. Fortunately, your household is always magnanimous and won't hold a grudge against petty people. This time I will definitely recommend a good one to make amends..." "However..." Uncle Si said.

And so the Xianglin's Wife incident came to an end, and was soon forgotten.

Only Fourth Sister-in-law, dissatisfied with the later hired maids who were mostly lazy or greedy, or both, still mentioned Xianglin's Wife. Whenever this happened, she would often mutter to herself, "I wonder how she is now?" meaning she hoped Xianglin would come again. But by the following New Year, she had lost all hope. As

the New Year drew to a close, Old Lady Wei came to pay her respects, already quite drunk. She said she had gone back to her parents' home in Weijiashan and stayed for a few days, which explained her lateness. Fourth Uncle wasn't home that day, but they closed the door tightly to talk. Unfortunately, I had secretly made a small opening a few days earlier to peek at Fourth Uncle and Fourth Aunt's intimate moments, so I overheard everything. During their conversation, they naturally started talking about Xianglin's Wife.

"Her?" Granny Wei Ruo said happily, "She's really lucky now. When her mother-in-law came to take her back, she had already been promised to He Lao Liu from Hejia'ao, so a few days after she returned home, she was put in a bridal sedan chair and taken away." "Oh my, what a mother-in-law!..." Fourth Aunt said in surprise.

"Oh, my lady! If you're truly from a wealthy family, what is this compared to us mountain folk, from a humble family? She has a younger brother-in-law who also needs to get married. If we don't marry her off, where will we get this sum of money for the dowry?" "Her mother-in-law is a shrewd and capable woman, very calculating, so she married her off to someone in the mountains. If she were married to someone from the village, the dowry wouldn't be much; but there are few women willing to marry into the deep mountains, so she got eighty thousand. Now her second son's wife has also been married off, the dowry was fifty, and after deducting the wedding expenses, there's still more than ten thousand left. Wow, look how well she's planned!..." "Xianglin's wife actually agreed?..." "What's there to agree to or not agree to? -- Everyone makes a fuss sometimes, all you have to do is tie her up with a rope, stuff her in a sedan chair, carry her to the groom's house, put on a flower crown, have the wedding ceremony, close the door, and that's it. But Xianglin's wife is really outrageous, I heard that..." "It was quite a scene. Everyone said it was probably because she had worked for a family of scholars that she was different from others." "Madam, we've seen it all: when a woman gets married, some cry and scream, some threaten to kill themselves, some are carried to the groom's house and cause such a scene that the wedding ceremony can't be completed, and some even smash the wedding candles. But Xianglin's wife was extraordinary. They said she just howled and cursed all the way. By the time they reached Hejia'ao, her throat was completely hoarse." "When they pulled her out of the sedan chair, two men and her brother-in-law tried their best to hold her down, but they still couldn't complete the wedding ceremony. They accidentally let go, and oh dear, she hit her head on the corner of the incense table, making a big hole in her head. Blood was flowing freely, and even after using two handfuls of incense ash and wrapping it with two pieces of red cloth, the bleeding couldn't be stopped. Even after they hurriedly locked her and the men in the bridal chamber, she was still cursing. Oh dear, this is really..." She shook her head, lowered her eyes, and stopped talking.

"What happened next?" the fourth maid asked.

"I heard she didn't get up the next day either," she said, raising her eyes.

"How could she not get up? Did she die?" "Oh dear, my good wife, she was so strong-willed, how could she die? Everyone who went to the wedding that day left, except for this old woman who was still under the window with a few young people eavesdropping. I heard..." "Heard what?" "Hehe..." Old Mrs. Wei laughed.

"Hehe..." Aunt Si laughed along, and had the new maid pour Old Mrs. Wei a bowl of wine. Old Mrs. Wei drank the wine in one gulp, then squinted and said, "I wet my lips and poked a small hole in the window paper to look inside. Xianglin's wife had already woken up, and the bleeding had stopped. He Laoliu was untying her..." "Untying where?" Aunt Si asked eagerly.

"Untying her hair!" "Tch..." Aunt Si seemed very dissatisfied and pouted.

Seeing that Fourth Aunt was a little unhappy, Old Lady Wei felt a little uneasy herself, so she smiled and said, "Of course, her clothes were already undone." "Xianglin's wife didn't resist either?... " "Even if she resisted, it wouldn't have mattered. I saw it with my own eyes. Old He Liu was already naked then. Oh my, my lady, you didn't see it. His body was all black and lumpy, with bulges all over his body. And that thing, oh my, my lady, I've lived for over sixty years and I've never seen such a big thing. The head was as big as a child's fist, and the shaft was as thick as a plow handle. It looked just like a donkey's!" "Was it really that big?" Fourth Aunt's voice trembled.

Seeing that Fourth Aunt was getting excited, Old Lady Wei lowered her voice and said mysteriously, "That He Laoliu, with all his strength, pinned down Xianglin's arms with just one hand and her legs with his knee. Xianglin's throat went hoarse, and she couldn't curse anymore, so she spat in his face and struggled desperately until her breasts turned red. He Laoliu stripped Xianglin's naked. Then he put his penis against Xianglin's vulva... Oh my... I can't bear to watch..." "Why can't you watch?" Fourth Aunt asked, biting her lip.

"Think about it, madam, you're a woman too, you know. With it so dry, how could there be any water inside?

And no one's been in Xianglin's room for a long time, it was just a crack. I had just covered my eyes when I heard a scream from inside, like the sound of the first cut when slaughtering a pig, it was so horrible! I mustered my courage and looked inside again, and I was terrified: He Laoliu's thing was completely inside Xianglin, going in and out, and it looked like it was still covered in blood! Every time it went in and out, Xianglin screamed, and the whole valley could hear it.

" "At this point, Old Lady Wei gently patted her chest, exhaled, and said, "It scared me to death." Fourth Aunt also patted her chest and exhaled, as if she were also under the window.

"And then?" "I was terrified, and just as I was about to sneak away," Old Lady Wei's chicken-skin-like face suddenly flushed red, "two arms grabbed me from behind." "Oh?" Fourth Aunt was greatly surprised. "Who are they?" "It's...it's..." Old Mrs. Wei stammered. Only when Aunt Si's face showed impatience did she finally stammer, "It's the young man who came with me to eavesdrop by the window." "What did they do to you?" Aunt Si's eyes gleamed with longing, one hand already slipping inside her clothes.

Seeing Aunt Si's interest, Old Mrs. Wei also began to get excited, every wrinkle on her face shining.

"What else could they do? First they rubbed, rubbed my old breasts, then they rubbed my anus. Oh my, those young men's hands were really good. I came after only a few rubs. Then they pressed me against the windowsill, pulled down my pants, and shoved that big thing in from behind, thrusting in and out, making me feel like my soul was leaving my body. I was lying on the windowsill, my eyes were right in front of that hole, and I saw He Laoliu lift one of Xianglin's legs up and put it on his shoulder, while holding the other leg himself, thrusting into Xianglin. Xianglin's big white breasts were swaying in front of her chest. She was still moaning." "Xianglin was in a lot of pain? That He Laoliu is really ruthless." "Isn't that right? Madam, at first Xianglin was just howling in pain, but slowly we could hear the splashing sound. She stopped howling and just moaned, moaning so wildly. It made those young men outside moan even harder. I couldn't take it anymore." "How did Xianglin moan?" Aunt Si's eyes shone with a fanatical light, and her hands moved even more violently inside her clothes. Her other hand was already inside her pants.

She moaned, "Mmm...mmm...ah...ah..." "That's it?" Auntie was a little disappointed, and stopped. Uncle hadn't done it with her in a long time.

"What else could it be? My good wife, that old man He Laoliu, he could suffocate anyone who sat on him. I was so engrossed in watching He Laoliu have sex with Xianglin's wife that I didn't even notice how many young men came and went behind him. But He Laoliu still didn't finish, and later, Xianglin's wife's voice became softer..." "And then?" "Then it was dawn, and I pulled up my pants and left with them." "He Laoliu didn't finish?" "No, not only did Xianglin's wife not get up the next day, but she didn't get up the third day either." "And then?" "Then? — She got up. She gave birth to a child at the end of the year, a boy, who will be two years old in the new year. During the few days I was at my parents' house, someone went to Hejia'ao and came back saying they saw the mother and son, the mother was fat, the son was fat; there was no mother-in-law, all the man had was strength, he could do housework, and he could also be a womanizer; the house was their own. —Ah, she really had good luck." From then on, Aunt Si never mentioned Xianglin's wife again.

But one autumn, about two New Years after receiving news of Xianglin's good fortune, she found herself standing again in front of her fourth uncle's house. On the table was a round basket shaped like a water chestnut, and under the eaves was a small bedding. She still wore a white headband, a black skirt, a blue jacket, and a pale vest. Her face was sallow, but the color had faded from her cheeks, and there were tear stains at the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were no longer as bright as before. And it was still Old Lady Wei leading the way, appearing compassionate, as she murmured to Fourth Aunt, "...This is truly what they call 'unexpected events in life.' Her husband was a strong man, who knew he would be ruined at such a young age by kidney deficiency? He was already better, but on the sixteenth, he had sex all night and it relapsed. Luckily, she has a son; she's capable, able to chop firewood, pick tea, and raise silkworms, she could have stayed with him, but who knew that the child would be carried off by wolves? Spring is almost over, and wolves have come to the village instead, who would have thought?" "Now she's all alone. Her uncle came to take back the house and chased her away. She's really desperate, so she had to come and beg the old master. Fortunately, she has nothing left to hold her back, and coincidentally, the madam's family is looking for a replacement, so I brought her here. —I think it's much better to be familiar with the place than a novice..." "I was so foolish, really," Xianglin's wife said, raising her lifeless eyes. "I only knew that wild animals would come to the village when it snowed because they had no food in the mountain valleys; I didn't know they would come in the spring too. I got up early in the morning, opened the door, filled a small basket with beans, and told our Amao to sit on the doorstep and shell the beans. He's very obedient; he listens to everything I say. After he went out, I chopped firewood and washed the rice behind the house." "The rice was in the pot, and it was time to steam the beans. I called Amao, but there was no answer. I went out to look, and saw beans scattered all over the ground; our Amao was gone. He never goes to other people's houses to play; I asked around, and sure enough, he wasn't there." Panic ensued, and people were sent out to search. They searched until late afternoon, finally finding one of his little shoes hanging on a thorn bush in a ravine.

Everyone exclaimed, "Oh no! He's probably been attacked by wolves!" They went inside; sure enough, he was lying in the grass, his penis dangling from his mouth, his insides completely eaten, his little basket still clutched tightly in his hand… She continued, but only with a sob, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Aunt Si hesitated at first, but after hearing her own words, her eyes reddened. She thought for a moment, then instructed them to take the round basket and bedding to the lower room. Old Mrs. Wei breathed a sigh of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Xianglin's wife seemed more relaxed than when she first arrived, and without needing guidance, she skillfully arranged her bedding. From then on, she returned to work as a seamstress in Luzhen. Everyone still called her Xianglin's wife.

However, this time, her circumstances changed drastically. Within two or three days of starting work, her employers noticed that she was no longer as nimble as before, her memory had worsened, and her face, like a corpse, was devoid of any smile. Aunt Si's tone already showed considerable dissatisfaction.

When she first arrived, although Uncle Si had... For example, she frowned, but given the historical difficulty of hiring female workers, she didn't object too much. She only secretly warned her fourth aunt that although such a person seemed pitiful, she was corrupting customs. Using her for help was fine, but she shouldn't be involved in the ancestral rites. All the food had to be prepared by herself; otherwise, it would be unclean, and the ancestors wouldn't eat it.

The most important event in her fourth uncle's family was the ancestral rites, which had previously been Xianglin's busiest time. This time, however, she was idle. The table was placed in the center of the hall, covered with a tablecloth. She remembered to distribute the wine cups and chopsticks as usual.

"Xianglin, you leave it! I'll set it," her fourth aunt said hurriedly.

She awkwardly withdrew her hand and went to get the candlesticks.

"Xianglin, you leave it! I'll get them," her fourth aunt said hurriedly again.

She circled around a few times, finally finding nothing to do, and could only walk away in confusion. All she could do that day was sit under the stove and tend the fire.

The people in the town still called her Xianglin's Wife, but their tone was very different from before; they still spoke to her, but their smiles were cold. She ignored all that and just stared straight ahead, telling everyone the story she couldn't forget day and night: "I was so stupid, really," she said. "I only knew that wild animals in the deep mountains would come to the village when they had no food in the snow; I didn't know they would come in the spring too. I got up early in the morning, opened the door, filled a small basket with beans, and told our Amao to sit on the doorstep and shell the beans. He was a very obedient child, he listened to everything I said; so he went out.

I chopped firewood and washed rice behind the house, and put the rice in the pot, intending to steam the beans. I called, 'Amao!' There was no answer. I

went out to look and saw beans scattered all over the ground, but our Amao was gone. "I asked around everywhere, but he wasn't there. I was anxious and asked people to look for him. It wasn't until late afternoon that a few people searched in the ravine and found one of his little shoes hanging on a thorn bush. Everyone said, 'It's over, he's probably been killed by wolves;' They went in again; sure enough, he was lying in the grass, his little penis in his mouth, his internal organs already..." "They've all been eaten up, and poor thing, he's still clutching that little basket tightly in his hand..." She then burst into tears

, her voice choked with sobs. This story was quite effective; men, upon hearing this, would often lose their smiles and walk away, bored; the women, however, not only seemed to forgive her, their faces immediately changing from contemptuous to tearful. Some older women, not having heard her story on the street, would specifically seek it out to hear this tragic tale. Until she reached the point of sobbing, they too would shed the tears that had lingered in their eyes, sigh, and leave satisfied, all the while commenting amongst themselves.

She simply repeated her tragic story to people, often attracting three or five listeners. But soon everyone knew it by heart; even the most compassionate old women who chanted Buddhist prayers no longer had a trace of tears in their eyes. Later, almost everyone in town could recite her story from memory, and hearing it gave them a headache from boredom.

"I was so foolish, so very foolish," she began.

"Yes, you only came to the village because you knew that wild animals had no food in the deep mountains during the snowy season." They immediately interrupted her and walked away.

She stood there, mouth agape, staring at them, then left, seemingly finding it all rather pointless. But she still hoped to dredge up the story of her Amao from other things, like the little basket, beans, or other people's children. Whenever she saw a two- or three-year-old child, she would touch their penis and say, "Oh, if our Amao were still alive, he would be this big..." The child would be startled by her gaze and tug at her mother's clothes, urging her to leave. So she was left alone again, and finally, feeling bored, she left. Later, everyone knew her temper, and whenever there were children around, they would ask her with a half-smile, "Xianglin's Wife, if your Amao were still alive, wouldn't he be this big now?" She probably didn't know that her sorrow had been chewed over and appreciated by everyone for many days, long since turned into dregs, only worthy of annoyance and contempt; but from the smiles of the people, she seemed to feel that this was cold and sharp, and that there was no need for her to speak anymore.

She merely glanced at them and didn't answer a word.

Luzhen always celebrated the New Year, and things would get lively after the 20th of the twelfth lunar month. This time, Fourth Uncle's family had to hire male laborers, but they were still too busy, so they asked Aunt Liu to help, to kill chickens and geese; however, Aunt Liu was a kind woman, a vegetarian, and didn't kill any living beings, only willing to wash dishes. Xianglin's Wife had nothing to do except tend the fire, but she was idle, sitting and watching Aunt Liu wash dishes. Light snow began to fall.

"Oh, how foolish I was," Xianglin's wife sighed, looking at the sky, as if talking to herself.

"Xianglin's wife, here you are again," said Aunt Liu, looking at her face impatiently. "I ask you: isn't that scar on your forehead from when you bumped into something?" "Uh-huh," she answered vaguely.

"I ask you: why did you agree to it later?" "Me?... " "You. I think: it must have been your own choice, otherwise..." "Ah, you don't know how strong he is." "I don't believe it. I don't believe that someone as strong as you could not overcome him. You must have agreed on your own later, and then blamed it on his strength." "Ah, you... you should try it yourself." She laughed.

Aunt Liu's wrinkled face also smiled, making her shrivel up like a walnut, her dry little eyes looking at Xianglin's wife's forehead and then fixed on her eyes. Xianglin's wife seemed very embarrassed, immediately stopped smiling, and turned her eyes to look at the snowflakes.

"Xianglin's wife, you're really not getting a good deal," Aunt Liu said mysteriously.

"If you had been even more forceful, or even just crashed into someone and died, things would have been fine. Now, you and your second man have been together for less than two years, and you've already incurred a terrible charge." "Think about it, when you go to the underworld, those two dead men will fight over you. Who will you be with? King Yama will have no choice but to put you in a brothel in the underworld, so that all the men there will fight over you. Whoever is the strongest will have their way with you. After that, the next man will come, and then there will be male beasts... It won't end until the day heaven and earth reunite. King Yama will then saw you in half and divide you among them. Whichever man slept with you will get a share. I think this is truly..." A look of terror appeared on her face, something she had never heard of in the mountain village.

"I think you should make amends as soon as possible. Go to the local temple and donate a threshold as a substitute for yourself, so that thousands of people can tread on it and tens of thousands can cross it, thus redeeming your sins in this life and avoiding suffering after death." She didn't answer at the time, but she must have been very distressed, because when she woke up the next morning, her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. After breakfast, she went to the local temple at the west end of town to ask for a threshold. The temple keeper initially refused, but when she was so anxious that she cried, he reluctantly agreed, and the price was twelve thousand coins.

She hadn't talked to people for a long time, because everyone had long been tired of the story of Amao; but since she talked with Aunt Liu, it seemed to have spread again, and many people had developed a new interest in it and came to tease her to talk. As for the topic, it was naturally changed to something new, focusing on the scar on her forehead.

"Xianglin's Wife, I ask you: how did you agree back then?" one person said.

"Alas, what a pity, I bumped into it for nothing." another person looked at her scar and echoed.

She could tell from their smiles and tones that they were mocking her, so she always glared at them without saying a word, and later she didn't even turn her head.

She kept her lips tightly shut all day, silently running errands, sweeping, washing vegetables, and rinsing rice, bearing the scar on her head that everyone considered a disgrace. Almost a year later, she finally received her accumulated wages from her fourth aunt, converted them into twelve silver dollars, and asked for leave to go to the west end of town. But she returned in less than the time it takes to eat a meal, looking very cheerful, her eyes unusually bright. She happily told her fourth aunt that she had already donated a threshold to the local temple.

During the winter solstice ancestral worship, she worked even harder. Seeing her fourth aunt prepare the offerings and Ah Niu carry the table to the center of the main room, she calmly went to get the wine cups and chopsticks.

"Leave them there, Xianglin's Wife!" her fourth aunt hurriedly shouted.

She recoiled as if branded, her face turning ashen, and she didn't even reach for the candlesticks, just standing there blankly. She only left when her fourth uncle told her to leave while he was offering incense.

This time, her change was drastic. The next day, not only were her eyes sunken, but she was also much more listless.

She became very timid, afraid not only of the dark and shadows, but even when she saw people, even her master, she was always trembling with fear, like a mouse emerging from its hole in broad daylight. Otherwise, she would sit still, like a wooden puppet. In less than half a year, her hair turned gray, and her memory became particularly bad; she would even forget to go fetch rice.

"Why is Xianglin's wife like this? It would have been better not to keep her then," her fourth aunt would sometimes say to her face, as if warning her.

However, she remained the same, showing no hope of becoming clever again. So they thought of sending her away, telling her to go back to Granny Wei's. But when I was still in Luzhen, I only said this; judging from the current situation, it seems that it was eventually carried out.

However, did she become a beggar as soon as she left her fourth uncle's house, or did she go to Granny Wei's house first and then become a beggar? I don't know. A few years ago in Beijing, I met a fellow villager who didn't know much about her, only that she later built a thatched hut by the river and lived there. During the day, when she begged for food, people would often grope her, touching her breasts and buttocks, or strip her naked in the street and force her to walk back to her hut. She didn't resist, only begging for food after they had looked at her.

At night, some bachelors who couldn't find wives would line up and sneak into her hut. In less than a year, her belly would swell, then deflate a few months later, only to swell again a few months later, repeating this cycle for over four years until last year when it finally stopped growing. The children born were said to be sold by those bachelors to buy alcohol, and after getting drunk, they would all sneak back into the dilapidated thatched hut by the river.

I was awakened by the loud firecrackers nearby, saw tiny yellow lights, and then heard the crackling of firecrackers—my fourth uncle's family was holding a "blessing" ceremony; it was almost dawn.

In my hazy state, I vaguely heard the continuous sound of firecrackers in the distance, seemingly forming a thick cloud of sound that embraced the entire town, accompanied by swirling snowflakes. In this boisterous embrace, I felt lazy and comfortable. All the doubts I had carried from day to night were swept away by the air of blessings. I felt as if the heavens and earth, having enjoyed the offerings and incense, were staggering drunkenly in the air, preparing to bestow boundless happiness upon the people of Luzhen.

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